


Unsinkable

by genderlessfish



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, M/M, like... at all, not historically accurate, titanic au!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:27:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28492365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genderlessfish/pseuds/genderlessfish
Summary: Logan has been the perfect child all of his life. Perfect manners, perfect poise, perfect brain. All that's left is being the perfect husband- marry someone with good status for the family. And he didn't even have to secure his own match, his parents had found one for him.By all accounts, this should be easy.Logan learns very, very quickly how wrong that is.-An analogical titanic au w background moceit for the sanders sides gift exchange! This is for @strugglingispointless on tumblr, hope you enjoy it and have a great new year!(Content warnings are in chapter notes)
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders, Deceit | Janus Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders, but analogicals the main focus here
Comments: 18
Kudos: 30





	1. Chapter 1

Logan didn’t believe anything was ‘perfect’- there was always space for improvement, no matter how miniscule, and settling for anything less with the claim it was already as good as it could be just seemed, as far as he was concerned, lazy. 

He pointed this out every time he heard the word, yet it didn’t stop his parents from using it to describe him. The perfect son. Booksmart, eloquent, impeccable manners. But there was always more to learn, and though ‘perfection’ was in itself subjective his social skills could certainly use some work. He, like everything else, wasn’t perfect. His parents didn’t especially appreciate the observation.

The frustrating thing about being ‘perfect’ was you didn’t make mistakes. You couldn’t. Expectations were high and, for the people who put a roof over his head and clothes on his back, Logan refused to disappoint them. So he spent his days studying, learning as much as he could to live up to an expectation he, realistically, knew was unachievable.

It was only natural he spent most of his time in their library, surrounded by dead peoples words. He didn’t mind that much- people were difficult to understand, but books told you exactly what they meant. They weren’t perfect, either, but they were ideal for learning, curling up in an armchair and forgetting about everything and everyone until you’re torn back to reality.

“Logan!” A shrill voice cried, doing just that. He gently shut his book and set it aside.

“Yes, father?”

“Oh, there you are- so small, that’s hardly a gentlemanly way to sit’ now, is it? I could barely see you. Sit up’ now, sit up- there’s my boy!” He doted, Logan’s back instinctively straightening at the command.   
“Now… Your mother and I have something to talk to you about.”

Logan scanned over his shoulder, a small frown setting onto his face.  
“I don’t see her.”

“Oh, darling- That’s because I’m doing the talking!” His father exclaimed with a chuckle, seeming to have thought that was a joke. The laugh felt a little patronising, if you asked Logan, and he had no idea why he’d say it’d be a conversation involving someone who wasn’t present, but he nodded like he understood anyway. Experience showed that was easiest.  
“Well, we’ve got you a match!”

Logan blinked. His father looked at him expectantly. His frown returned.  
“What would I do with a match...? I’ve told you tobacco makes my lungs feel constricted, and it’s generally Amy's job to light the fireplaces-”

“Oh, Logan!” He laughed again like he’d said something ridiculous.  
“A romantic match, silly. A fiancé!”

“Ah.” Logan’s eyes flicked back to his book. He’d been reading about constellations before, and though learning of their origins was somewhat less academic than his other studies, it was a passion of his. “Will that be all?”

“You… don’t want to know about him?” His father prodded in that way that signalled he had been meant to ask for details. Logan shook his head anyway.

“I know I’m around that age, and I trust you to choose an adequate match- so long as I live with a library, I cannot foresee any issues.”

There was a beat of silence, for a minute, before his father seemed to come to terms with his answer. He let out a delayed squeal, squishing Logan’s face uncomfortably between his hands and pressing a kiss he had to fight not to move back from to his forehead.  
“There’s our boy!”

Logan offered him a smile, hand already reaching back for his book.

-

Virgil groaned loudly, tearing a page from his sketchbook and crumpling it up in his fist. He threw the balled up paper at the bin... and watched it bounce off the lid, onto the floor with all his other attempts. He slumped and hit his head on the table. Nothing he drew was good enough. Seemed to be a pretty consistent theme in his life, actua--

“I’m home!” He heard his brother yell, almost like the self deprecation had summoned him. That happened a surprising amount, and Virgil was beginning to wonder if he had some kind of sixth sense for wallowing. 

“What’re all these?”

Virgil peered up to see Patton scoop up some of his discarded paper and huffed.  
“Shit.”

“Hey, language!” Patton scolded, unfolding one. Virgil knew better than to protest because, either way, there was nothing he could do to stop the incoming onslaught of validation. Pretty rude of his brother, if you asked him, breaking in like this and ruining his lamenting.  
“Kiddo, this is amazing!”

“Kinda loses its meaning when you say that about everything, Patt.” Virgil grumbled, pulling his hood up.  
“It’s covered in mistakes- I kept having to rub them out but it happened so much the paper just looks messy and flaky, but I kept fu- screwing up and-”

“There’s no such thing as a mistake.” Patton scolded lightly, not wanting to let him fix onto something so negative. “Just-”

“If you say ‘happy accidents’ I’m setting the apartment on fire.” Virgil warned, hiding a small smile.

“You know me too well.” Patton replied with a deep sigh, slipping into the chair opposite him and not quite meeting his eyes.  
“In other news, though... I’ve got news. Oh! I said ‘news’ twice.” He giggled, and Virgil rolled his eyes- before he registered what ‘news’ meant. It meant something new, which meant change and, yeah, they didn’t exactly have the money to keep going as they were in this shitty expensive flat without any work but where else would they go? Were they homeless now? Was the news that they were being kicked out? He knew they were overdue but they had time, still, surely--

“Kiddo! Kiddo, I’m sorry, I should’ve been clearer.” Patton gently pulled him back to reality, the guilty look on his face enough to make Virgil feel terrible for spiralling. He didn’t admit that, though, because it’d make Patton feel worse, and then they’d just be in their own spiral of upsetting one by upsetting the other and he did _not_ have the emotional stability to deal with that.  
“I have a job!”

Virgil was pretty much a master in nerves, and he could spot them a mile away- especially in his brother. The wringing of hands and avoidance of eye contact wasn’t exactly subtle. Why he’d be nervous about getting work when they needed it so desperately, though, didn’t seem right. Was he a criminal? Were they going to get arrested?  
“That’s… good?” He offered, before he could jump to any more awful conclusions.

“It is!” Patton nodded eagerly, latching onto it. “Just…”

“Just...?”

“It’s on a boat.”

Virgil's throat went dry.  
“We can’t swim.”

“I know, but most of the crew can’t, it’s really safe, and we’ll have our own room and it’ll be warm and-”

Virgil shook his head quickly.  
“We’ll be surrounded by miles and miles of sea and we can’t keep afloat by ourselves and if it sinks we’re fucked and-”

“We… don’t have much of a choice.” Patton reminded him softly, and they both involuntarily looked over at the red envelopes shoved under the door. Their eviction notices.  
“Anyway, cheer up kiddo- they say it’s unsinkable!”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no real content warnings other than a brief mention of alcohol and some gross, kinda gorey imagery from Remus, but it doesn't last long.

The Titanic was the only boat Virgil had been on and, if everything went his way, the last. If this boat didn’t kill him- which he still wasn’t sure about- he was never stepping foot on another one again.

Patton had told him a million times it was safe. _Unsinkable_ , even. But that was dumb. Everything was sinkable, and it didn’t matter how safe it seemed; if you tried hard enough you could ruin anything.

Unfortunately, that line of thought was also what made him finally board this floating metallic hunk. They were out of money, options, and a home, and Patton’s job here gave them all of that. He just wished the floor would stop swaying beneath him.

Someone cleared their throat behind him and he almost jumped out of his skin, spinning around.  
“What?”

The man looked even greener than him and judging from the fact they hadn’t even left the port yet, it wasn’t just from the sea.  
“I- apologies, for startling you.” Oh, fuck, his accent. This guy was posh. The clothes should’ve been a giveaway, but he’d been too focused on his face- and even when he looked like he was barely holding back puke, it was a kind of handsome one.

Wait, no. He couldn’t go there. Not with random posh boy.  
“S’alright.” He managed, trying not to look too awkward as he placed his hands securely in his pockets. There was a beat of silence.  
“You, uh… good there?”

“Oh! Apologies again, I’m uh- usually more composed than this. It’s just… nerves.” He explained, pushing his glasses up his face, a nervous tic that had no right being as adorable as it was. Ah, fuck.  
“I’m meeting my fiancé for the first time in about-” He checked an expensive looking watch and Virgil briefly considered becoming a criminal before he remembered getting his brother fired from a job he hadn’t even started wasn’t on the agenda, “-ten minutes.”

“That’s… rough.” Virgil offered, before he’d fully registered what he’d said. Fiancé? Jesus, he knew his type was ‘out of his league’, but _engaged_ was a whole new ballpark. “Wait- don’t you need to have met someone to, y’know, propose?”

The man offered him a smile, strained but genuine. “No proposal involved- well, not in the traditional sense. It was an agreement reached by our parents.”

“Shit.” Virgil exhaled, beginning to catch onto his nerves. Still, an unhappy but easy life was better than a difficult one, right?  
“Rich people problems.”

His brain caught up with his tongue and he begun to fumble out an apology, because _god_ that was rude and having money didn’t mean other aspects of your life wouldn’t be difficult and he couldn’t imagine-

The man did the last thing Virgil would’ve guessed. He laughed. It was quiet, an amused chuckle he stifled almost as soon as it came out, but his smile seemed easier now.  
“You’re correct, of course, there are worse things.”

“No, that was insensitive and stupi-”

“It’s alright.” He reassured him, tone soft and concerned in a way that really wasn’t helping Virgil's whole ‘don’t be attracted to the engaged rich guy’ plan.  
“I am not opposed to it- I’ve known for years this would happen, I just… Don’t want to mess it up.”

Virgil stared back at him in disbelief. “ _That’s_ your issue? Not- what if they’re a prick and you’re gonna have to spend the rest of your life playing nice with someone you can barely stomach looking at?”

“Worst case scenario, I ‘play nice’.” Logan shrugged like that was no big deal, like he wasn’t just… just… agreeing with everything the cynical voice in Virgil's head had been saying. Huh.  
“His family home still holds the largest private library in half of the country. Besides, I doubt my parents would choose anyone too intolerable.”

“Figures, actually.” Virgil admitted slowly, and when the guy didn’t have any response beyond a nod of agreement, they stood there for a while, time stretching away in a much more comfortable silence. The man's eyes were blue, he noticed, shallower than the sea lapping at the boat beneath them. Warmer, too. Easy to get lost in, in a way that didn’t scare Virgil anywhere near as much as it should have.

“Did you need something, or…?” He asked finally, breaking the trance and scolding himself. This guy was the _definition_ of off limits.

“Right! Sorry, for… unloading all of that, there.” If Virgil didn’t know better, he’d think the guy was blushing- embarrassed from the staring, probably. Oh god. “I just needed to know. Um, where the dining hall was. Is.” 

“Oh, just over there- walk straight ahead, then it’s the first left.” Virgil nodded over his shoulder, making a point to himself of not looking back into his eyes. Saying he was afraid of getting lost in them would be cheesy, generic, and also mortifyingly true.

“Thank you.” The man offered him a small smile, far more at ease now, and Virgil knew if they ever met again he was fucked.

-

Logan paused, hand hovering over the doorknob, and took a deep breath. For someone so logical, he could do his fair share of overthinking, but something about that man had just been… comforting. There were people he’d known his whole life he struggled opening up to, but he hadn’t thought twice with…

With…

He hadn’t gotten his name. Logan swallowed, wondering why that upset him so much when he doubted he’d even see him again. When he felt a lump rising in his throat he wondered why that felt so upsetting, too.

He couldn’t afford to focus on that though. He sucked in another breath, filling his lungs in the hope the cold air would clear his head, and stepped into the room.

He was immediately hit by the sound of people, chattering from all angles, and the dance floor in front of him covered in the bright, swishing fabric of skirts and the blinding reflection of the chandeliers’ light. He wasn’t normally a drinker but, right now, the buzz he could get from one of those champagne flutes was a little too tempting.

He paused in the threshold of the room, wanting a moment to get acclimated to the lights and the sounds and the _people_ , when he heard a sharp voice to his left.  
“Logan.”

He turned to face his parents, mother jerking her head to indicate she wanted him to come over. He straightened his back, lifted his chin, and approached.

“There’s our boy! Oh, we were getting worried- but you look so handsome, of course you do, how could it not be fine?” His father gushed, clearly trying to break some of the tension. His mother grunted in acknowledgement, before turning and nodding across the room.  
“He’s over there.”

“You aren’t introducing us..?” Logan asked with uncertainty, using all of his willpower to keep his hands still no matter how nervous he felt himself getting. His father would scold him for it being improper, and his mother… The look she’d give was a strong enough deterrent.

“Young love! Could never get in the way of that. It’ll be perfect, don’t you worry.” His father reassured with a wink, and Logan's eye almost twitched. There that word was again. He could read between the lines clearly enough. He was the one that had to be perfect, here, because they couldn’t afford a screw up.

“You’ll be fine.” His mother added, a reassurance meant to add pressure, not comfort. Logan had had nineteen years of living with the woman to know which of her comments were a thinly veiled, barely polite, way of telling him she was fed up and wanted to get on with things. That was to say, most of them.

He gave them both a curt nod, movements measured and borderline robotic as he crossed the room to the huddle his mother had indicated. 

There were three people- facing him, two boys that he’d been told were identical but couldn’t be further apart, from facial hair to clothes to their mannerisms. Twins. The third, their brother and his fiancé, had his back to them, and he braced himself for a second before calling out with a confidence he didn’t feel,  
“Hello?”

The taller twin’s eyes lit up in a way Logan couldn’t tell if it was friendly or threatening, grinning under his mustache.  
“I thought arranged spouses were meant to be ugly.”

The other twin seemed scandalised, elbowing him in the ribs and hissing far louder than was probably intended,  
“That’s rude.”

Thankfully, before the first was given a chance to respond, their brother turned and, by all accounts, Logan knew his heart should’ve stopped. This was his fiancé, and despite his glasses, Logan wasn’t blind- he could tell the man was stunning. The yellow and black suit was tailored perfectly to him, and his sharp, mismatched eyes felt like they saw far more of Logan than he was comfortable sharing. 

Logan didn’t find himself focusing on the man’s beauty, though… He was fairly indifferent to it, actually. What had caught his attention was the left side of his face, the skin an angry, flaring red, peeling away in some areas. He struggled to think what kind of condition it was, and his thoughts must’ve been apparent, because before he could settle on an answer that same bright eyed twin got far, far too close to him.

“Skin condition! Dreadful thing, really- Jannie’s skin comes off in flakes. Cornflakes! Guess you could eat them… it’s kinda like a snake, shedding, only it doesn’t come of all at once. Pretty constant though. It’s like glitter- gets everywhere. One day so much will peel away there’ll be nothing keeping in the blood and it’ll gush from his face, soaking him and everyone near, ‘til his heart stops and it’s not pumping and he’s _dead!_ ” He squealed in excitement, and although Logan didn’t believe in any of those so clearly made up symptoms, he had the decency to blush and look down. The guy probably got a lot of stares like that.

“Remus!” The other twin hissed, grabbing his brother.  
“I- that’s not true. Especially not the whole bleeding to death part.”

“It’s eczema.” His fiancé supplied smoothly, ignoring both his brothers in favour of staring Logan down, almost challenging Logan to have a problem with it. He swallowed, repeating that silent mantra of _perfection_ , and offered him a stiff, rehearsed smile.

“Apologies, it was rude to stare.”

Janus shrugged smoothly, and an awkward silence settled between them. So, not off to a great start.

Logan wasn’t exactly a master conversationalist, and nerves had his mind drawing a blank as he ran through the options to try and make any part of this interaction less awkward. Luckily, Janus seemed to get bored of the silence fairly quickly, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Well, then… Shall we dance?”

Logan nodded, and Janus’ face was unreadable as he placed his arms around Logan's shoulders, allowing him to lead as they box stepped backwards to the dance floor. Over his fiancé’s shoulder, he saw Remus wriggle his eyebrows suggestively as his brother gave an enthusiastic thumbs up, and couldn’t help snorting. Janus looked back, too, and a smile ghosted across his face before he schooled it back to the same uncaring neutrality.

Logan had been forced into his fair share of dances and this, with Janus, was no different. His clothes- perfectly neat. The steps, perfectly executed. That infuriating, blank, yet somehow so smug face- the look Logan always tried to pull off- perfect.

“I hear this ship’s meant to be unsinkable.” Janus supplied what Logan assumed was meant to be an icebreaker and he found himself wondering how something so silky and smooth and ridiculously ‘perfect’ could cut so fiercely through his thoughts.

“Nothing is without its flaws.” He snapped back, harsher than he meant to sound… a lack of control. Amazing.

“Agreed.” Janus raised a stupidly perfect eyebrow that Logan was sure he had plucked. “I only said I heard that.”

Logan found himself rolling his eyes before he could stop himself, and oh, no, this wasn’t part of the plan, he could practically hear his mother yelling already. He fumbled a step, almost pulling Janus down with him, and backed away.  
“I- look. I need some fresh air.” He supplied as he turned and all but fled from the room, head swimming.

The sudden plunge into cold air was shocking, and more than welcome. He leant on the railing, staring down at the churning waves with an odd sense of kinship as he tried to sort through his own whirlwind of thoughts.

He was blowing it. His one shot to thank his parents and stupid _perfect_ upbringing by becoming some trophy husband, and it wasn’t even difficult! He spent most of his time being pleasant to people he only barely tolerated anyway!

Yet the thought of his fiancés smooth voice and sharp eyes and tailored clothes and ridiculously handsome face made him want to throw up. Not from butterflies, or nerves, or anything sweet or conventional or nice like you were meant to think about your future husband. No, it was the thought of playing this charade not just in public, but at home as well, every minute of every day… 

The boat lurched and he did, too, gripping onto the rails before he had a chance to be thrown over them and spun, like a ragdoll, no more helpless than he already felt.

“Whoa! Runaway groom.” He heard a voice call, and felt a hand on his arm steadying him despite the danger having long passed. When he glanced up into those equally sharp eyes, a vibrant green that bore into him almost as harshly as his brothers, his mind supplied a name- Roman.  
“You looked like you were gonna go over! The thought of marrying my brother really that bad?”

Logan felt his face heating in shame again as he hurried to shake his head.  
“No, that wasn’t- Apologies, the boat simply lurched and I was feeling sick-”

Roman laughed, moving to lean on the railing next to him.  
“I get it. I mean- I don’t, but the Bananaconda has been stressing for months, too, so I can only imagine…”

Logan nodded, barely registering the ridiculous nickname as he stared out at the harbour shrinking in the distance. His old home.  
“It is just… frustrating. Before I stepped aboard this ship I was fairly resigned, I always understood this to be my future. But now I’m actually facing your brother, the reality of all this seems to have metaphorically hit me full force.” 

Roman pat his shoulder gently. Logan wasn’t generally one for affection, especially from strangers, but he did appreciate the sentiment.  
“For whatever it’s worth, although JJ was against this too, I can promise you he holds no resentment for you, personally. Maybe even given time…” 

Logan scoffed before he could finish the sentence, shrugging his hand off.  
“‘Maybe given time’ nothing, Roman. This is an arrangement of convenience, nothing more, and all we have to do is remain civil.”

Roman seemed to suddenly gain an understanding of personal space, backing away a little. The look on his face almost made Logan feel guilty about the harshness of his words- although, he was quick to remind himself, they had been true.  
“That’s all you want? A lifetime of… Of _civility_?”

Logan pushed up his glasses, finding himself unable to meet Roman’s eyes as he nodded decisively.  
“It is all I can expect.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warnings this time for discussions of murder and cannibalism!! things are heating up

Something was wrong with Patton.

Something- other than the sea- had felt fishy from the minute they’d boarded this stupid ship, and although Virgil didn’t normally need a reason to feel nervous, his brother’s increasingly frequent disappearances were only making him feel worse about this, which was really saying something.

The first red flag had been this job that had fallen into Patton's lap- he’d gone from a kitchen assistant to head chef, with luxury quarters. And Virgil was happy for him! But that kind of thing didn’t just _happen_ out of nowhere, no matter how talented you were.

He’d tried asking, of course, but his brother had just told him he was being silly and asked for a painting of the sea, so they could ‘remember this journey’. Ugh.

So Virgil had done the only sensible thing for a man in his position and followed his brother. He wore nearly all black most the time, anyway, so blending into the night or trying to find some kind of stealth gear wasn’t an issue, and he was used to making himself small. He stayed a safe twenty paces away at all times, hiding behind corners maybe just a little more dramatically than was necessary. Their room might be nice, but staying cooped up in there on your own all day was mind numbing.

This was more than just an excuse to stretch his legs, though. This was important, Patton might need him, and he couldn't allow anything to get in the way-

He rounded a corner only to realise there was very much something in the way. He ran straight into him, jogging the water in the man’s hand and spilling it all down his shirt. A fancy shirt.

Shit.

Virgil backed away from the rich guy, stammering out a hurried apology as he began to turn to flee, but he was interrupted with… concern?

“It’s really alright, it was only water.”

Concern in a familiar voice, too. Virgil turned back to see it wasn’t any posh boy, but _his_ posh boy he’d ran into. Jesus.  
“If you’re sure.”

“Of course I am.” The man reassured him, still frowning a little at Virgil's reaction. Amazing. Hot and caring. This really wasn’t helping him here.  
“I’m going to head back to my room to change my shirt. Would you like to borrow one, too?”

Virgil felt his own shirt, only now realising it was wet, too, and began to shake his head. Anything this guy owned was probably much too nice to trust him with.

“I have plenty, it’s really not an issue.” He insisted, and Virgil found himself murmuring an, “Alright,” without thinking it through at all, following him down the hall.

“I didn’t ask your name earlier. I’m Logan.” He heard posh boy- Logan- add, and smiled slightly. It suited him.

“Virgil.”

“As in the poet?”

Virgil blinked, trying to figure out what that meant.   
“What poet?”

“Publius Vergilius Maro, a Roman poet. He’s usually just referred to as Virgil in English.” Logan explained simply, listing it off like groceries rather than some obscure fact most people wouldn’t have a clue about.

Virgil suppressed a smile at that thought, because it absolutely was _not_ cute.  
“Name was Publius, huh? Poor guy.”

Logan looked at him for a minute, and Virgil was suddenly struck with the deep, gut-churning panic his joke had been stupid and Logan thought he was dumb now and why hadn’t he just kept his mouth shut-

Until Logan laughed again, a sound Virgil was growing to like a little too much.

“In here.” He said, a little breathlessly as he held a door open, and for the first time in as long as Virgil could remember when he entered an unfamiliar space with a stranger, he didn’t even wonder if he was about to be kidnapped or murdered.

Virgil whistled, hovering in the doorway as he took in the room.  
“And I thought my place was nice.”

“It is adequate.” Logan acknowledged, leaving Virgil to wonder whether he just wasn’t materialistic or was really _that_ rich as he watched him look for shirts.

Logan passed him a shirt calmly, then began to change his own shirt. Virgil squeaked and shut the door to any passers by, pointedly turning away from Logan. Maybe after getting a little glance.   
“I’m- I’m right here!”

“... And?” Logan asked, glancing down at himself in confusion as he finished buttoning up his shirt. Jesus, this man would be the death of Virgil.

“Never mind.” He muttered, back turned as he changed. It was surprisingly convenient for hiding his blush, too.

He turned back to see Logan had turned away, too, probably to respect his privacy, and he couldn’t help smiling. He tapped him on the shoulder and he spun around and _oh_ , they were close.

Logan seemed to notice, blood rushing to his cheeks as he stepped back quickly.  
“So, uhm… Virgil. Do you mind my asking what you were doing sneaking around corners this time of night?” He pushed up his glasses ~~adorably~~ awkwardly.  
“Sorry, that sounded accusing. It isn’t my place, I only meant that I was curious.”

Virgil snorted, tentatively sitting down in an overly plush chair. For a second, he thought he was sinking through, but nope- apparently they actually just made chairs this soft. Logan seemed to relax, too, sitting opposite him on his bed, _(something Virgil tried not to think too hard about.)_

“You promise not to laugh?”

Logan nodded so seriously that Virgil almost laughed himself.

“I just… my brother’s been acting all weird since we got here. And even to get here! He landed this great job as the chef, and he’s more than good enough for it, but he’s also _completely_ unqualified, and he keeps disappearing in the middle of the night so I-”

“-Went to check on him.”

Virgil nodded, too, wringing his hands and waiting for Logan’s ridicule. When it didn’t come he looked up slowly, only to see him wiping his glasses with some cloth, clearly thinking about speaking. He waited patiently, a little intrigued by the gesture.

“Please, pass on my compliments for the food.” He finally said, and Virgil snorted, although he couldn’t exactly blame him. Pattons cooking was the shit.  
“And I must confess, I was actually out for similar reasons.”

Virgil squinted at him, this time.  
“Your brother’s been acting weird?”

“What? No, I only have a sister, and she isn’t here.” Logan dismissed, thrown off track by that.  
“It’s my fiancé.”

Alright, Virgil hadn’t been expecting that.  
“... Your fiancé?”

“Yes. There’s something I don’t trust about him, he’s just- he’s too _perfect_ , something just doesn’t sit right.” Logan explained, agitated, and Virgil bit back a laugh, ignoring the twisting in his gut. It was probably for the best there was something to drive home the point of just how out of his league Logan was, even if the ‘point’ felt more like a knife.

“Sounds like you have a crush, Lo.”

Logan pulled a face immediately, shaking his head.  
“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous?” Virgil asked him, raising an eyebrow.  
“You’re marrying the guy and all you can do is think about how _perfect_ he is and follow him about at night. Sounds like you’ve got it good.”

Logan scoffed.  
“Perfectly annoying, yes. And I am following him to prove that there is something wrong!” 

“Perfectly annoyin- jesus, are you hearing yourself here? You so like him.” Virgil taunted, figuring if he had no shot with Logan, he could at the very least tease him a little before never seeing him again.

“I do not!” Logan crossed his arms moodily.  
“Who even goes out this late at night? Something has to be wrong.”

“You went out this late at night. So did I. And my brother.” Virgil reminded him, torn between amusement and disbelief.

It didn’t have the effect he’d expected, though, as Logan shot up suddenly.  
“Of course, ‘who else’! Your brother! Perhaps they were meeting.”

Virgils eyes widened.  
“What? No, Patt wouldn’t do anything dodgy.”

Logan looked back smugly.  
“What is it you were just saying about something being off?”

“So… My brother’s a criminal. High brow, rich person shit.” Virgil was suddenly very glad he was sitting down.  
“I- oh God, is it the mafia or something? Don’t say it’s that. He can’t handle himself in a fight, he hates _any_ kind of conflict! They’d chew him up and spit him out- shit, what’s he gotten himself into, who knows what’s-”

“Virgil.” There was that voice again, soft and firm and immediately shutting him up.  
“I have no reason to believe my fiancé has any kind of criminal involvement, and there is no guarantee they were meeting in the first place. Even if they are talking, perhaps it’s about… dietary requirements.”

Virgil chuffed, but he could already feel himself calming down. That did make more sense.  
“Dietary requirements?”

“Something along those lines.” Logan agreed, sitting next to him, and Virgil exhaled.  
“Although I am certain it is alright, I get the feeling neither of us will be satisfied without answers, so… How about we follow them together? To be sure.”

Virgil found himself nodding before his brain could remind him what a bad idea it was to spend more time with this man.  
“Yeah, okay.”

Logan nodded back, a minute smile on his face.  
“As for tonight… Would you like me to walk you back to your room?”

-

Figuring out what was wrong with his fiancé was serious business. It was important to Logan that he understood the man he would be spending the rest of his life with. And that was why he found himself looking forward to the evening far, far too much.

He endured the lunch that stretched for hours, full of prodding and testing and judgements like he was, somehow, the one they should be concerned for with surprising ease, now that he had a focus. Perhaps, if it was awful, he would no longer have to marry Janus.

Logan wasn’t one for lying to himself, though. Wasn’t really one for lying, full stop- as a child he’d once missed dinner, too busy reading to notice the time, and told his mother he’d felt sick. He showed, and faked, absolutely no symptoms, and… Yeah, her reaction was enough to put him off ever trying that again. He knew the source of at least some of his anticipation was Virgil. He was one of the few people taller than Logan, all sharp angles and long limbs that would’ve looked awkward on anyone else. The kind of person who’d much rather be small, too. It was endearing, and he fascinated Logan. In truth, he wasn’t quite sure why, but that was a part of what was so fascinating! He’d have to spend more time with him before the end of their voyage. For science.

His cynicism didn’t quell the uncharacteristic excitement bubbling in his chest, though, and as soon as Janus had ‘retired’ from the dinner he did the same, ignoring the whispers it caused. Let them assume what they would.

He stayed a good distance away, knowing Virgil would catch up with him when he was able, and stuck to the wall, determined not to lose Janus this time. He’d figure out what was happening if it killed him _(and despite his reassurances, the whole ‘mafia’ idea wasn’t wholly off the table, so that may be possible.)_

That was ridiculous, though. He wasn’t going to be murdered, not by his fiancé or-

He felt a hand on his shoulder and jumped, letting out a frankly undignified squeak before a hand was raised to his mouth, another pushing him against the wall. He wondered if the murder idea hadn’t been so far off after all, until he heard a familiar voice in his ear.

“I’m sorry, I was trying to be stealthy, but then you- you squeaked, like that, and I thought they were all gonna hear so I just… I’ll move my hand. Sorry.”

Virgil stepped away sheepishly, and Logan felt himself flush.

“Apologies, I was a little jumpy.” He adjusted his glasses before it suddenly set in, and he glared at Virgil in indignation.  
“It was _not_ a squeak! Merely… an exclamation. Of surprise.”

Virgil smirked but, wisely, didn’t comment.

“Anyway,” Logan straightened his tie in an attempt to redirect the conversation, still avoiding eye contact,  
“We should be focusing on our mission, here.”

“Mission?” Virgil asked in amusement, and Logan realised this was more relaxed than he’d ever seen him. If it didn’t mean this incessant teasing, he would’ve quite liked it. ~~He did anyway.~~

“You know what I mean.”

Virgil shrugged, accepting his point, if stubbornly, and Logan smiled a little. They were back on track.  
“Alright, then.”

“Alright.” Virgil echoed, and he nodded down the hallway, the way they’d been headed before… all this.  
“Well?”

Logan nodded, figuring silence was the best course of action. He allowed Virgil to lead him down the hallway, feeling a little ridiculous in how he stuck to the hallway or ran between sides when Virgil made it look so effortless. He felt like a child playing at something the other man had clearly mastered.

Clumsy or not, he managed to reach their destination without alerting anyone of their presence. When he looked to Virgil for a nod of confirmation, perhaps a thumbs up, he found his eyes already on him, which he quickly averted. Peculiar.

He didn’t have time to analyse that, though, when he heard a sickeningly familiar voice call out,  
“Fancy seeing you here.”

Logan stiffened, and Virgil's eyes widened, as they exchanged looks of panic. After three painstaking seconds, a giggle broke the silence.

“We agreed to meet here!”

Logan let out a silent breath, but it didn’t seem to relax Virgil. He raised an inquiring eyebrow, barely making out the returned mouthing of ‘brother’. Ah. He quickly mouthed back ‘fiancé’, hoping Virgil understood before he returned his attention to their conversation.

“So we did.” Came that smooth, stupidly cocky voice. Logan was fairly sure you weren’t meant to find the man you were about to marry so punchable.

There was that giggle again. Innocent, sweet, and perhaps a little annoying. Logan wasn’t sure what people saw in it but, then again, convention did tend to confuse him anyway.  
“What’d you want to talk to me about, Jan?”

Virgil stifled a laugh and he realised he hadn’t bothered hiding his look of disgust at the nickname. He supposed it must’ve been rather amusing.

“Oh, nothing much.” So cryptic. Logan resisted the urge to roll his eyes- why couldn’t people just say what they meant? He hated all the implications and hidden meanings and subtle social cues that Janus seemed to thrive off. They were overly complex and, more importantly, pointless.  
“Just, you know. The menu.”

“The menu?” Virgil’s brother asked, seeming to find that funny rather than confusing. Maybe it was some kind of in joke?

More hidden meanings.

“Oh, yes.” Janus drawled,  
“See, there’s someone I’d _really_ like gone- say I gave you some poison, would you..?”

The implication was clear. Virgil’s brother gasped, Janus laughed as though he’d just played the world’s funniest practical joke… And Virgil asked an incredulous _”What?”_

Everything froze.

Then the hurried clack of shoes, heading towards them, tore them from the silence and Virgil grabbed Logan’s hand and _ran_.

Logan didn’t consider himself especially athletic- his asthma made excessive exercise rather uncomfortable and, besides, he preferred curling up with a book and cup of coffee to going outside any day- but he always did enough exercise to keep his parents off his back about his weight, so he wouldn’t consider himself especially unfit either. 

This made him think he needed to reconsider. Virgil had a, frankly, unfair advantage with the extra height on his legs, (Logan found himself suddenly thankful Janus had been shorter than both of them), but even so, he wondered if he did track or something along those lines, because he was _fast_. Had their hands not been connected- his cheeks flushed as the thought crossed his mind, and he convinced himself it was from exertion- he would’ve been left in the figurative dust.

“Wait-” Logan panted, in part unsure of how much longer he could continue like this.  
“My room- just… to the left.”

Virgil thankfully nodded, pulling him into the doorway and watching intently as Logan fumbled his keys.

“Hurry.” He hissed, and Logan felt himself rolling his eyes. “I’m _trying!_ ”

He finally got it, and they both stumbled in, pushing the door behind them and collapsing against it. They sank to the floor, Logan breathing heavily as he pulled his inhaler from his pocket and frantically shook it. He inhaled greedily, only finally looking back over at Virgil when he was confident his lungs were in working order again. He looked dishevelled from the exertion, too, and it wasn’t an entirely unpleasant sight… Until Logan realised how much worse he must have looked. He ran a hand through his hair in a useless attempt to neaten it.

Virgil stood suddenly, and only once he was gone did Logan realise ~~and miss~~ the feeling of their shoulders pressed together.  
“Holy shit.”

Logan had to take a moment to refocus on the situation at hand, thoughts running faster than his legs ever managed, before nodding slowly.  
“‘Holy shit’, indeed.”

Virgil somehow still had the energy to pace across the room, barely sparing Logan a glance.  
“My brother’s a murderer- he kills people and that’s how he got this job and am I even safe? I didn’t know- what else could he be hiding?”

“Virgil.” Logan interrupted him, sounding as exhausted as he felt.  
“I doubt there is much worse than ‘murderer’ he could be hiding from you.”

Virgil stared at him as it hit Logan he really had no idea how to comfort someone. He was beginning to wonder if he’d made things worse when Virgil started laughing, a welcome if slightly manic sound, and sat back onto his bed.  
“You’re… probably right there.”

Logan offered him a smile, finally standing from his (frankly undignified) position on the floor.  
“Besides, we mustn’t jump to conclusions.”

“... What other conclusions _are_ there?” Virgil asked in disbelief, and Logan had to admit he had a point.

“Perhaps, he… Wanted to slip someone a laxative? Revenge, nothing murderous.”

The silence that followed went to show how unlikely they both believed that to be.

“Well…” Logan took off his glasses and wiped them on his shirt, for once not bothering with the proper handkerchief. Right now, that felt like the furthest thing from important.  
“Regardless, we do not know where is safe currently. It may be a good idea to- ‘lie low’, as it were, so as not to draw any unwanted attention to ourselves. You are welcome to remain here.”

Virgil's expression was unreadable as he considered it before finally, a little nervously, nodding when he presumably realised he had no other options.  
“If you don’t mind.”

“Wouldn’t have offered if I did.” Logan said simply, picking up a book. He knew it wasn’t exactly social, but he needed to relax somehow, and he settled down in one of the chairs.  
“Make yourself comfortable. Uhm- as you can.”

Virgil snorted, seemingly having a silent debate with himself.  
“You have any paper?” He asked, once he’d settled on an answer, and Logan nodded. He passed him a sketchbook and pencil.

“Thanks…” Virgil held the book carefully, like he was worried about damaging it.  
“You draw?”

“The occasional field sketch- flowers, birds, for me to identify once I get home. None are especially good.” Logan explained without looking up from his book. He wasn’t secretive about them anyway but, especially around Virgil, he saw no reason for embarrassment. 

Virgil seemed to be having another internal debate before he finally opened the book to a blank page, the sound of a pencil scuffing across the page oddly comforting as Logan allowed himself to get lost in his book. Sitting like this with Virgil, his little, swaying room became the world, any problems outside melting from existence. He felt safe in here.

Everything had to end eventually, though, and before Logan knew it he went to turn his page only to be faced with the end of the book. He set his book aside and looked over to Virgil, seeing him just as concentrated, tongue poking out between his lips as he concentrated. Logan wasn’t generally one to find people ‘cute’, but the sight was undeniably adorable.

He stood and approached Virgil, wanting to see what he was so involved in. When he stopped next to him, eyes landing on the page, his breath caught in his throat.

It was a picture of Logan in that chair, reading like he had been a few moments ago. Only it wasn’t like that. He didn’t look sweaty, or out of breath, he looked _gorgeous_. He radiated tranquility, brows creased just so in concentration, as he studied the imaginary pages below him.  
“Virgil…” 

The other man startled, slamming the book shut as he finally noticed his presence.  
“Logan!” He yelped, and if Logan wasn’t still so awed from the drawing, he would’ve teased him- because _that_ was a squeak, if ever he’d heard one.  
“You… I’m sorry, I should’ve asked, but you just looked like you were enjoying your book and I didn’t want to interrupt you again and I-”

“Is that really how you see me?” Logan asked quietly, and Virgil’s face went a bright red. He opened his mouth, trying to form some kind of excuse or explanation, when a knock on the door had them both freezing. 

“Hide.” Logan whispered loudly over the continued knocking, and opened his closet door then shut Virgil in. His heart was beating so hard it, illogically, felt as though it would bruise his ribs, and he wasn’t sure whether it was nerves or- or something else. 

He adjusted his shirt, trying to compose himself, before opening the door and abruptly ending the incessant knocking. Opposite stood Remus, mouth under his mustache curled into a sharp grin that, somehow, reminded Logan of a shark.  
“Heya nerd!”

“Remus. What do you need?”

Remus looked him up and down thoughtfully.  
“You’re a mess.” He informed Logan cheerfully, and a little voice in the back of his head said _tell me about it_.

Before he could stop him, Remus had pushed in and collapsed onto his bed.  
“Why are you a mess?”

Logan cringed internally, forcing himself to not look over at his wardrobe.  
“I fail to see how that’s any of your business.”

“Fair!” Remus picked up the sketchbook, beginning to flick through it, and Logan snatched it from him hurriedly. He pouted, but left it be.  
“You just were acting funnier than normal, and I know J-Anus isn’t exactly a fan of this marriage shit, so I wanted to be sure you weren’t about to jump through your window and swim back to shore or some shit.”

That was… oddly considerate, Logan was pretty sure. And illogical.  
“Even if I could survive a swim of that distance in these temperatures, I could not fit through these portholes. I would jump over the railings.”

Remus laughed, inspecting one of the cushions on Logan’s bed now.  
“That’s the spirit! Guessing you aren’t doing it, then?”

Logan shook his head, still not quite able to relax. Knowing how close Virgil was, knowing this was the brother of a murderer, and that they were, putting it simply, ‘screwed’ if they were caught… Yeah, he was a little on edge.

“Alrighty then, what’re you doing lookin’ all dishevelled? Enjoying your last nights of freedom with some saucy hookup?”

“No!” Logan felt the blush returning to his cheeks, answering far too quickly. He bit his lip.  
“I mean- that’s preposterous. I am engaged, and there’s clearly nobody in my room.”

“Clearly.” Remus put the cushion back down, eyes lingering on it for a second before turning back to Logan.  
“So! What’s up?”

That caught Logan off guard.  
“What?”

“What’s the stick that’s been shoved up your butt!”

Logan rolled his eyes at the ridiculous analogy- at least his fiancé didn’t say things like _that_.  
“It doesn’t have any relevance to you.”

“Mmmm… I already have two mopey brothers. I don’t need a mopey brother in law, who can’t even _hide_ it.” Remus huffed, and Logan was a little taken aback by the bluntness. That, he supposed, he could appreciate- even if the ‘mopeyness’ caught him off guard. Perhaps that was what Remus meant by ‘being able to hide it’.

“I simply overheard your brother saying something concerning.” He replied carefully, and Remus lit up.

“I love concerning things!” Not promising. “He says them a lot,” Even less promising, “Soo, you’re gonna have to be more specific.”

“He…” Logan was fairly sure he could trust Remus and, more importantly, he was still a godawful liar. There were two of them, regardless, and the idea of trying to claim he had been cheating made his stomach turn. Affection didn’t come naturally to him, and if he tried to fake it he knew they’d be caught in seconds.   
“He suggested giving the chef some poison to ‘deal with’ someone he disliked.”

“Logan!” A voice hissed, and before he could do anything, Remus had pulled open the closet door.

“I knew you were having a saucy affair!”

“There isn’t- wait, how?” Logan couldn’t help asking.

“You’re not helping.” Virgil whispered angrily, and Remus cackled.

“The book thing, rumpled bed sheets, hair on the cushion… And somehow, I really doubt that’s his shirt.”

Logan decided not to question why he was such an expert on spotting things like that, instead nodding.  
“Well, I can reassure you this is no form of ‘affair’. Virgil’s brother is the chef who Janus has enlisted with his… plan. He was observing them with me as we tried to determine what was happening.”

“No, uh- ‘affair’.” Virgil echoed awkwardly, blush returning.

Remus squinted at them before shrugging.  
“Whatever, couldn’t blame ya if you were. So… You think my bro’s Sweeney Todd-ing a buncha guys with your bro?”

Virgil frowned, looking over at Logan and mouthing ‘Sweeney Todd?’ in confusion.

“He was a Victorian penny dreadful, a barber who slit peoples’ throats with his razor and had his lover bake their remains into pies for her shop.” Logan explained calmly, not noticing the colour drain from Virgil's face at the thought.  
“Where did you get that idea?”

“Creative liberties! Don’t worry, that’s not it.” Remus dismissed, and Virgil relaxed. Minimally.  
“If any of us were to murder, Jannie’s least likely to snap- too much control. Reckon it’s between me and Ro. He doesn’t seem like the type, but you’d be surprised what a man’ll do if he’s pushed far enough…” 

“What’s that got to do with anything?” Virgil asked, exasperated, and Logan had to agree.

“It was meant to be reassuring!”

Virgil blinked.  
“It wasn’t.”

Remus shrugged as if to say ‘what can you do’, leaning back.  
“So, what? You seriously want me to look into whether J’s a murderer?”

“And my brother, Patton.” Virgil added quickly.  
“I mean- if you’re offering.”

“Why does that name sound familiar…” Remus muttered before suddenly shaking his head, looking up.  
“I mean, if that’s what’ll make him-” he jerked a thumb at Logan, “stop moping.”

“I don’t mope.” Logan grumbled, and Virgil made a gesture to say ‘little bit’. He huffed and crossed his arms, then promptly uncrossed them, not wanting to prove either of their points.

“Alrightie then!” Remus stood up, finally, and Logan couldn’t help frowning.

“That’s it?”

Remus raised an eyebrow at him.  
“What, you want me to stay?”

“Not particularly.” Logan admitted, and Virgil stifled a snort next to him. For some reason, Remus grinned too.

“Thought so! I’ll let you know.”

And with that, he was gone. Virgil eyed him warily.

“Telling him was stupid.”

Logan bristled, not having expected that. He did _not_ appreciate being called stupid.  
“We were in out of our depth, and we needed more information- which he is better placed to retrieve, and has agreed to find!”

“He could’ve been in league with the guy.” Virgil hissed, running a frustrated hand through his hair.  
“Scrap that, maybe he is! Maybe he went and told him and now we’re at the top of the murder list!”

“From the select number of times I have met Remus, I do not believe him capable of such deceit.” Logan replied coolly, and Virgil scoffed, throwing his hands up in the air.

“Great! You _believe_ it’ll be okay. Should we throw a prayer in, too?”

Logan crossed his arms, finding himself increasingly frustrated as well.  
“You are being irrational.”

Virgil spun around to face him.  
“I’m _trying_ to keep us alive!”

The shout pulled him from his anger and back to reality, leaving him suddenly all too aware of how cramped his room was. Luxurious, yes, but there was only so much space on a boat, and it was only meant for one person. Virgil was so close he could hear him breathing, heavy from agitation, and he found himself staring at the man. Staring as he reached up to push up Logan’s glasses where they’d slid down his nose- _how_ hadn’t he noticed that?- and leaving his skin burning where his hand brushed it. Staring as his eyes flicked down to lips, and as Logan wished he would just-

Oh.

_Oh._

Virgil backed away, eyes wide and shaking his head.  
“I’m sorry, I- Jesus, Virge, you just had to go and-”

“Virgil.” Logan tried, staring as he pulled the door shut behind him as he left, shaking his head and apologizing the whole way.

“Oh.” Logan murmured, sinking down onto his bed and resting his head in his hands.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is Remus sooo.. some gross stuff, ofc. mentions of sex and drowning

Remus really hoped his brother was a murderer. 

Don’t get him wrong- he loved Jannie just as he was, yadda yadda _yah_ , and as his older brother he looked up to him and shit. But he also spent far, far too much time concentrating on his appearance. On what other people thought, how he sounded, how he came across- it must’ve been exhausting and, to be honest, Remus was all in favour of him cutting loose and going feral, even if it cost a few lives.

Unfortunately, he also knew that hadn’t happened. Nerdy wolverine hadn’t been wrong either, though, because there was definitely _something_ dodgy happening with his brother. He just doubted it was something anywhere near as interesting as murder.

Still, there was only one way to find out for sure. He’d have to ask the would-be murderer himself! And if he was cut up and added to that cute chef's pies, hey, at least they’d have an answer.

Privacy was definitely something Janus and Roman _tried_ to enforce with their brother, but it was also something Remus ignored without fail. He burst into Janus’ room without a second thought.  
“You’ll never _believe_ the shit I just heard…” 

Wait, where was Janus?

Not on the seat, or the bed… He scanned the room before he came across two figures, deathly still, right next to him. Against the wall, specifically- Jesus Christ, that ‘cute chef’ had his brother pressed against the wall.

He started to laugh.

“I thought you locked the door.” Patton said, panicked, as he moved away from Janus, redder than the poor fucks Remus had just seen in the other room.

“I thought I had.” Janus replied, quickly rebuttoning his shirt. He didn’t really blush, but Remus knew him well enough to tell how mortified he was from how he kept his eyes cast to the floor- he normally hated not meeting people's eyes, something about it being a ‘sign of weakness’.

“So! It’s not murder.”

Janus and Patton exchanged a look of confusion.

“Your bro-” He nodded at Patton, “And your fiancé-” He nodded at Janus, “Overheard your whole poison shit earlier and convinced themselves you were some kinda murderin’ duo.”

“Language.” Patton corrected, weakly, still trying to catch up here.

Janus frowned at the floor, clearly not quite present either. To be fair, Remus had burst in fairly abruptly- he just thanked whatever Satanic entities were down there he hadn’t walked in much later. Not that it would’ve stopped him!

“Something ‘bout putting poison in the food, ‘take care of’ the people you don’t like?” He prompted.

Janus looked up, finally clicking into place what he meant. He started to laugh.

“Janus!” Patton exclaimed in surprise, a little disapproving.   
“We- they know! How are you laughing?”

“Darling, they thought we were murderers. They have no idea that…” 

“You’re fucking?” Remus supplied helpfully, and Patton squeaked in embarrassment. Janus only shrugged in way of acknowledgement.

“We don’t know that!”

“Nah, we do.” Remus sat back on Janus’ desk, understanding the situation pretty quickly.  
“So- this a friend’s with benefits kinda deal, or are you actually… Y’know. Saps.”

“That’s- I- we wouldn’t-” Patton began, stumbling over his words, and Janus gently interrupted, “Saps.”

“Ew.” Remus scrunched up his nose.  
“You do know you’re gonna be a married man in, like, two days? To someone else?”

Patton shuffled uncomfortably, and Janus simply shook his head.  
“No, I’m not.”

Remus squinted at him.  
“Uhh… Yeah, you are.”

“No, because there’s an ordained minister on board, and in about…” His brother looked down at his watch,  
“Six hours, we’ll be married, making any match our parents try and force unlawful.”

“Are you sure we should be telling him this..?” Patton asked hesitantly.

“I can keep a secret!” Remus reassured him, although he squinted accusingly at Janus.  
“Seems like a dick move to pocket protector, though.”

“You and I both know he is no more eager to follow through on this than I am.” Janus shot back, and Remus had to admit, he had a point.

“Huh.. you, goodie two shoes, don’t have any issues with this?” Remus asked Patton, the one thing that wasn’t adding up, and watched him swallow nervously.

“I don’t exactly _like_ the secrecy, but Jan and I… we’ve been seeing each other for a while, but if we were open before they could stop us, then we wouldn’t be allowed to, and I just couldn’t-”

“Alright, ew.” Remus interrupted, gagging.  
“Gross, I get it, you two love each other or something.” He moved to get off the desk when the ship lurched, throwing him off it. He stumbled, just barely keeping his balance, looking up to see Patton chewing his lip. “That’s not good.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe boats lurch for the fun of it.” Janus replied, apparently returning to his default of sarcasm even as he looked about nervously. Patton shot him an unimpressed look and, when he caught it, he cringed.  
“... Sorry, not helpful.”

Remus pulled another face. The guy had his brother under his thumb, and he was pretty sure if he saw much more he’d throw up.   
“Well, you two go back to fucking or something. Hey, maybe the boat lurching will help your thrust! I’m gonna go check what’s happening.” He called, leaving the room and pulling the door behind him before they could get any more sickening.

Now, why _did_ boats lurch? Not fun, although if Remus wasn’t still thoroughly disgusted from learning all of that, he might’ve enjoyed it. Because they hit something, probably.

… That really didn’t sound good.

When he surfaced on the deck, it was chaos. In front of him a lifeboat was piled full of people- too many people, he realised with a sinking pit in his stomach, images of bodies swirled through the waves, lungs filling with water and skulls bashed against rocks flashing through his head. He winced, then turned on his heels and ran for his brothers.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> discussion of death, illness and drowning this round! it's the final chapter soooo hope you enjoy

Logan woke with chattering teeth, his clothes stiff and cold. He tried to sit up and found himself restricted- his clothes had frozen. He didn’t feel too far off joining them as he forced himself up, gripping the rail next to him for support.

The deck was filled with people in the same position. Some sitting in huddles, talking lowly. Others asleep. Some lying far too still.

“They’re taking us back to shore.” 

Logan startled, turning to see a woman shivering against the railing. He wished he had something to give her, but everything he had was painfully cold- he doubted he could make it much better.

“We…”

“It sunk.” She clarified, glancing over her shoulder at the water behind them.  
“This ship was on the lookout for survivors.”

“Survivors?” Logan repeated, not sure if his voice was shaking from the cold or… Well.

She nodded, settling back, and that seemed to be the end of it. Logan couldn’t blame her for not being in a talking mood.

-

Janus had found him at the harbour when he was out looking for Patton. He hadn’t bothered hiding his disappointment, but he had taken Logan in, allowed him to stay in their family home. He learned, gradually, what he’d missed- his parents had been on the first lifeboat off, and he read recounts of his mother shoving people out of the way to get there. Sounded about right. Janus’ parents had been on it, too, when it sunk.

He knew he would have to return, eventually, sort out his parents affairs, take over the house, but for the moment he’d… actually grown to care for the brothers. And it turned out they needed a lot of care.

Roman had a habit of expecting the best from himself and nothing else, something Logan could relate to a little too much. He could lock himself up in his room for days at a time, trying to write a masterpiece, unless someone forced him to take a break and eat. Remus seemed to have the opposite issue, expecting the worst of himself before anyone else had the chance to. Sometimes his thoughts got a little too loud, a little too violent, and he’d lock himself away, too, until someone came to, gently, remind him that he wouldn’t hurt a fly, even if he could imagine a million ways of going about it.

That used to be Janus’ job but, since the incident, he’d been… distracted. He went to search the different ports every day, sometimes long into the night, returning exhausted and sunburnt. It was a little difficult, watching someone who used to take so much pride in his appearance throw it all to the wind, but Logan was beginning to understand him.

Janus wasn’t perfect. He was a lot like Logan, actually. Expectations piled onto him for as long as he’d been able to carry them. That desire to hold up every single one, without fail.

The biggest difference was that when Janus had found a way out, he’d been prepared to fight for it, no matter what it cost him. Logan had just… Sat there, and allowed it to slip through his grasp. He hadn’t even realised he wanted it until it was too late.

Staying with the three of them had a little to do with that, too, if he was being honest. He didn’t know where Virgil was. He didn’t even know if he was alive. But… he had to stay around, just in case.

Logan had been reluctant to label his affections, initially. He’d been told love infatuated you with someone, made their every fault a positive- turned them perfect in your eyes. But Logan knew Virgil wasn’t perfect. He knew he overthought things, even more than him, knew he was jumpy and pessimistic and hotheaded. And he knew he didn’t care, because he loved him anyway. 

He’d had a lot of time on his hands to formulate a list of the things he did love about Virgil, too, but it was a long list and, had you showed it to him a year ago, he would have laughed in your face and told you it was the work of a lovesick moron. 

He was beginning to realise being a lovesick moron wasn’t a problem.

The problem he now knew was much, much worse was wondering if he’d ever get to kiss Virgil.

He had to keep it together, though. For Janus and the twins. 

They didn’t have many staff around the house- Janus insisted paying other people to do something you could do yourself was ridiculous, and although Logan had an idea about their financial situation, he agreed. It did mean, though, he ended up doing a bulk of the work- which, right now, was grocery shopping. 

He didn’t mind that, in truth. It kept him occupied, gave him a way to give back, and gave him something to think about other than a lanky man and his sketchbook.

Apparently though, even that wasn’t working for him, because if he wasn’t mistaken, he was looking right at him. Inspecting a cabbage of all things.

He blinked. He must be mistaken.

The man looked up. Dropped the cabbage.  
“Logan?”

Logan blinked again, harder, not wanting to get his hopes up. When he didn’t disappear, Logan stepped forwards, reaching out to make sure he was actually there. His hand landed on his arm, and Logan left it there.

“Lo..?” Virgil laughed nervously, and Logan could have cried. “You’re kinda freaking me out, here. Do you want me to go, or-”

“No!” Logan said quickly, grip tightening on his arm. He cleared his throat.   
“You’re here.”

Virgil laughed nervously, nodding.  
“I am here.”

Logan bit the inside of his cheek, remembering the haggard shell of his fian- friend.  
“And Patton..?”

“We have a place to stay, but uh- he’s not quite recovered. Gonna kill him for all this when he gets better.” Virgil glanced down at the cabbage, pulling a face.  
“Cabbages help sick people, right?”

“I don’t believe so.” Logan laughed breathlessly, not bothering to stifle or quieten it. Virgil- _both of them_ \- were okay.  
“But…”

Virgil looked back at him in sudden concern, eyes widening.  
“But?” 

“Nothing!” Well, that was a blatant falsehood. Feeling his cheeks redden, Logan clarified, “I mean, uhm- I seem to remember something you almost did, that night. Haven’t been able to stop recalling it, if I’m being honest.”

Virgil's eyes widened, hope welling up behind them.  
“What would that be?”

“Kiss me.”

**Author's Note:**

> i have never watched the titanic before so!! took a Lot of creative liberties here,,,,,,, also did like. no research so historical accuracy is Out lmao, sorry abt that (altho a huge thanks to my beta @missfay49 on tumblr for pulling me up on some of the inaccuricies anyway, and for all their help w editing this!!)


End file.
